


Tortured Mind

by 090 (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Draco's POV, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Malfoy Manor, Malfoycest, Warning: Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:36:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7716751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/090
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since 4th year Draco had slowly been learning to live with his demons, until one day he is faced with a terrifying fact: the truth will always come out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tortured Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I'm outta my mind for writing this. Again, warning for disturbing content yada yada yada. I'm not a professional and English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry in advance for any glaring errors. Comments are appreciated!

He had known this about himself for longer than since Fourth Year at Hogwarts. On a subconscious level, prickling under his skin, It has always been there. As a child, facing Lucius had been definitely easier. He didn't understand most of his feelings to begin with, and his emotionality could be justified by him being a rightfully affectionate child, who really loved and admired his father. There was nothing wrong with that. 

Except now he was sixteen and wanting to touch and caress his father was really not that cool anymore (or at all, he guessed) and he knew, he knew with numb horror that he didn't simply love Lucius. He was obsessed with him and utterly dependant on his every word. He wanted to be perfect for him in everything. He just wanted to see happiness and pride and joy and pleasure show on the man's face for once. He was sure the last time he had seen Lucius remotely contented with him had been probably when Draco was twelve.

But he also wanted something else. A something... bizarre, wicked, decidedly wrong even for a Malfoy and a soon-to-be Death Eater. When the visions and images started to fester in his mind first when he was only fourteen, he had blamed it on stress and too much dark magic surrounding him at the Malfoy Manor, what with all the forbidden artifacts that his family enjoyed collecting. Then the dreams came when he was in Fifth Year. Those were literally a nightmare, he thought bitterly, yet a torment he had enjoyed nonetheless. This whole mess in his head really had just made him hate himself even more. 

His father had been almost sent to Azkaban last June but expectedly Lucius had found a way to escape prison once again, despite the glaring evidence that he was, indeed, a direct follower of the Dark Lord. 

After the trial, the Malfoy family remained in a stiff mood for basically the rest of the summer, even though Lucius was officially declared innocent and free (he still couldn't leave the country for the next six months, but no one had to know that). 

Draco had been worried dead about his father and it did not help that Lucius seemed to be constantly occupied with an important duty almost every day now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had indeed returned (it still pleased Draco to know that virtually no one seemed to believe Potter about this and the papers continued to slander the obnoxious brat all summer much to the Slytherin's delight).  
Yet not even seeing his school rival get judged and insulted in the Daily Prophet relieved him from the growing nervousness that he felt for his father. 

He started to suspect that somehow Lucius knew. Maybe he had used Occlumency on Draco while his son was having a particularly detailed dream. Draco wouldn't put it past his father to use such magic on his own son. Lucius had even threatened to use the Cruciatus Curse on him once after all. 

If Lucius knew, then this explained the more pronounced than usual coldness he regarded his son with, and the distance he seemed to keep from Draco these days.

Maybe he was simply tired, Draco reasoned, after all Lucius was always away working for the Dark Lord now, and had much at his hands. It was only normal if his father did not want to put up with his disappointment of a son that Draco had grown to be. 

Underneath the icy grey of his eyes, Lucius seemed to be very angry with him. Draco felt this anger as if it was an oncoming storm, the piercing stare Lucius met his son with whenever he lay his eyes upon him - an omen of impending doom. 

Draco groaned and sighed at his thoughts. He was going nowhere worrying over his father again, and it was only the thirteenth of August, pretty much two more weeks before school started. He scrubbed at his face and abruptly sat up on his bed, his head slightly dizzy from the sudden movement. He had been laying there for almost three hours now, as the old fashioned clock on his bedside table indicated. He really had spent three hours being depressed because of his father, again. Draco sighed again. He was going nowhere like this. He knew he had to face him.  
So he made himself stand up and get dressed for the day. It was a little too late for him to be still in bed, but Narcissa was away in France - she had declared she needed a change of air after the ordeal with her husband and Draco was more than happy to have a little more freedom to sleep in for the rest of summer, without his mother berating him severely for his lack of discipline a Pureblood like him should strictly abide by. 

Today was different though. At two in the afternoon (it was a quarter to one now) Lucius was going to arrive home and stay in for the rest of the week, as he had announced the day before. Apparently he was almost done with some "preparations" he had been assigned to make for his Lord and now he was going to be free - as one could get under the Dark Lord's rule - for the rest of August. 

When his appearance was deemed perfect enough, Draco descended the stairs to the great dining room, where surely enough a fresh rich breakfast (or lunch, as it was) made by the House Elves awaited him. He beamed at the sight and made to sit, that was until he noticed the man sitting at the far end of the long table. It seemed his father had come back earlier than expected.

**Author's Note:**

> I typed this on my phone, I'm sorry :'D


End file.
